The Third
by TheJavaGirls
Summary: Willow's parents have been keeping just a few secrets. Finding herself a new student at Hogwarts, she learns about her birthright. Willow/Angel (takes place after season two BtVS)
1. One

"You know Willow, I would have thought you'd be thrilled to be getting a chance to attend a school like Hogworts." Gritting her teeth, Willow turned to stare out the train's window. "So is this how we're going to spend the last few hours together before we reach the school?"

  
  


"Is there a particular subject you'd like to talk about...Mother?" Willow clipped.

  
  


"Well your attitude for one." 

  
  


Turning quickly to stare at the woman sitting next to her, Willow could honestly say she'd never felt so betrayed in her entire life. "My attitude? How did you think I'd react? You've lied to me for the last seventeen years. After looking back I should've known there was something off about our family. We've never really been normal. But this? Everything in my life has been a lie. I have cousins I've never met. Six years behind in some magical school -."

  
  


"It's not as though you don't have the summer to catch up." Her mother interrupted. Leaving Willow to gape at her.

  
  


"Six years in two and a half months? Don't expect much, do you? This is supposed to be my summer vacation. I had plans!"

  
  


"What? Patrolling the streets of Sunnydale? Fighting demons with Xander and Cordelia?" Sheila lowered her brows. "Not that I don't admire what the three of you are trying to do. But you'll never get rid of the evil that lurks that town. Plus with Bunny gone -."

  
  


"Buffy."

  
  


"Right. I'd think you'd welcome the change."

  
  


"That's another thing." Willow cried. "For two years you let me sneak around. Listened to my lies. Not once did you tell me you knew what was going on. You and Dad _knew _Sunnydale was smack dab on top of the Hellmouth. It was the reason you moved there. Don't you think there's something a little off about wanting to move to some demon infested town?"

  
  


"We've already told you. The magical convergence was a perfect shield."

  
  


Covering her face with her hands, Willow let out a frustrated growl. No matter how many times she'd been through this with her mother, she could never make her understand why she was so upset. With every valid point she spoke, her mother always had something to counter with. To her parents she should just suck it up and deal. But Willow hated being lied to. Apparently her entire life had been one bog whooping lie. 

  
  


It wasn't like her life hadn't already been in one big ole downward spiral already. Oz had left just days after summer vacation had started. She'd gotten 'the call' almost a week to the day after that. He'd excitedly told her in his mellow Oz way, how well the band was doing. So well they'd decided to extend their trip. It was what he wasn't saying that Willow could hear. It was over. 

  
  


Then there was Buffy. No one had seen or heard from her since her confrontation with Angelus. Her clothes were gone. The only sign she was still alive. But it didn't answer the questions Willow really wanted to know. What about Angelus? Did the curse work? Was he Angel now and if so where was he? Perhaps they had decided for some time away. Or maybe Angel had been torn over what he'd done as Angelus. His brooding taking even a darker turn.

  
  


Now it looked like she'd never know. 

  
  


Feeling the weight of her mother's stare, Willow turned to stare out the window. It didn't matter what was said. Sheila Rosenberg would never see that she was in the wrong. It was something stamped into her genetic make-up or something. As long as she'd been alive, she'd never heard her mother outright say she'd done something in error. She seriously doubted this would be the historic first. 

  
  


"Aren't you at least a little anxious to meet your cousins?" 

  
  


"You mean the ones I never knew existed. The ones who I won't get to see until school starts because I'm a 'special' student now." Turning on the bench, Willow little pert nose wrinkled. "Do you think they'll make me use those really fat ink quills? Ride the short broom? Hide the paste from me?"

  
  


"That's not funny." Her mother frowned.

  
  


"Well at least there's one thing we can agree on. None of this is funny. Or fair. I didn't even get to say good-bye to Xander." Watching her mother roll her eyes. Willow felt a drastic need to slap the exasperated expression off the woman's face. 

  
  


"You can send him a post."

  
  


"Right." Willow said dryly. "You said there was the owl express. I can't see Xander freaking out too much on that."

  
  


"He's grown up on the Hellmouth. I'm sure some innocent owl won't phase him." Sheila shrugged.

  
  


Knowing the discussion could go on like this forever, Willow snapped her mouth shut and turned back to the window again. If she didn't stop now, any ounce of respect she possessed for her mother would vanish. After a few minutes, Willow was bored. 

  
  


Might as well get some studying done, she thought darkly. Reaching for the bag her mother had already packed for her, Willow grabbed a book on top and opened the cover. Her mother's neat writing was on the first page. 

  
  


Willow Rowan Potter.

  


She blinked an read it again. 

  
  


Willow Rowan Potter.

  
  


"You lied to me about my name?" Slamming the book in disgust. Willow gave her mother, what she hoped, was the darkest. Angriest. Most hostile glance she could conjure. "That's just...just....it's sick. That's what it is. Do you understand how twisted this is? Are you really my mother? Or is there something else you're keeping from me?"

  
  


"You're upset about that?" Clearly amused, Sheila shook her head. "Of everything that has happened in the last few days, I thought this would be the smallest of your worries. Really Willow. I thought you to be more mature than this."

  
  


Snap. There ladies and gents, Willow thought bitterly, was the last shred of respect I had for my Mother.

  
  


~~~*~~~

  
  


"The Deatheaters number is growing." Professor Snape followed the tall proud figure that strolled a few feet ahead of him down the stairs leading to the lower part of the dungeon. "Some because of their blind loyalty. Others because of the terror of what could happen to them and their families if they don't."

  
  


"I have no doubt." Dumbledore acknowledged. "What time is it?"

  
  


"Quarter to twelve." Snape replied. "Some students may not be returning this fall. I suspect Draco Malfoy will be among them."

  
  


"A pity. To have one's future decided by someone's who's judgement is clouded." Sighing, Dumbledore turned down the corridor to their right. The sound of dripping water somewhere in the lower regions of the school the only sound until the wizened wizard spoke again. "Do you feel safe returning as a teacher this year?"

  
  


"It should be no problem. It may even convince some of the parents reconsider not having their children return." 

  
  


"Very good." Stopping outside a thick oak door. Pulling out a large ring of keys from his robe, he found the one he was searching for. "Are you ready to great our guest?"

  
  


"I thought you said Hagrid would be here with the chains." Snape's curt reply had Dumbledore chuckling. "Don't fret. He will be here." Opening the door, the two men walked into the large empty chamber. Dark wet stones covered the floor. Unlit torches hung from the walls. 

  
  


With a quick swipe of his wand, Dumbledore had the wicks lit. Creating a mild light. "There will be a new addition this year."

  
  


"Oh yes." Snape growled. His displeasure evident. "Another Potter."

  
  


"I was relieved to hear that Ira and Sheila Potter and their young daughter had survived. Harry will be so pleased to hear he has relatives still living."

  
  


"Joy." Snape smirked. 

  
  


"Yes." The older wizard's mouth twitched. "She'll be arriving soon. Professor McGonagall will be catching her up before the school year."

  
  


"Isn't she six years behind?" Snape's mouth twisted. "She will never be able to get through the first two years let alone six before fall."

  
  


"I don't imagine she will. Though I am sure she'll be capable of four." Seeing the look of disbelief on his fellow colleague's face Dumbledore continued. "As you well aware, Willow Potter has been residing on the Hellmouth for the last seventeen years. She's even befriended the slayer."

  
  


"I admit the slayer may be a powerful Muggle, by no means does this make Miss Potter spectacular." Crossing his arms over his chest in boredom, Snape couldn't keep his displeasure from his face."

  
  


As though he hadn't heard the glowering man, Dumbledore checked the round clock hanging from his belt before saying. "She's been studying wandless magic for almost two years now..."

  
  


"Muggle magic."

  
  


"And when performed correctly just as powerful. She successfully performed the re-cursing of Angelus." Dumbledore answered with pride.

  
  


"Luck."

  
  


"Which is the best kind of magic at times. Luck, if one possess it. Can sometimes prove to be the greatest leverage." The atmosphere in the room thickened. A steady humming noise, followed by what sounded to be electrical popping. "Ah. It seems Professor Donnelly has decided to join us at last."

  
  


Nodding silently, Snape took a small step back. His eyes on the center of the room, he waited. A loud clap out thunder sounded through the underground chamber. Causing the thick walls to tremble. Soon a large flash of light lit up the room. And out of no where a well muscled man fell to the floor.

  
  


Neither man blinked. To them it seemed it was the most natural thing in the world to see naked men appearing out of no where. 

  
  


Soon the form on the floor twitched. A low growl emerged from his chest.

  
  


"You said something about Hagrid bringing the chains?" Not sounding the least bit pulsed, Snape still wasn't dumb enough not to keep one eye of their new arrival. 

  
  


"Ah, yes. I'm sure he'll be along soon." Dumbledore replied.

  
  


"Let's hope he hasn't gotten caught up with one of those little creatures he calls pets." 

  
  


The man on the floor lurched suddenly to his feet. Chocolate brown eyes darting around frantically. His nose in the air as he sniffed, almost like an animal would, trying to sense a predator. Soon his eyes settled on the two men standing nearby. 

  
  


With sharp pointed teeth bared, the man sprang forward without warning. 

  
  


"Impedimental!" Both wizards had there wands out in seconds.

  
  


"Sorry I'm late." Hagrid's voice boomed off the walls. "Train was early. Miss Potter is waiting in your office Dumbledore sir."

  
  


"The chains Hagrid?" Snape asked dryly. 

  
  


"What?" Hadrid looked puzzled for only a moment. "Oh, yeah right." Holding up the burlap sack in his right hand, the large man ambled into the room and shook his head at the frozen man. "He looks a little beaten up."

  
  


"I imagine the hell dimension could do that to a person." Over seeing the grounds keeper securing the vampire, Snape's expression was sour.

  
  


"Is he gonna be fit to teach next term?" 

  
  


"They let you teach." Snape replyed giving the large man a look before turning his gaze back to the new teacher. "I don't see why they wouldn't let him."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Two

Professor Dumbledore's office was a magical users paradise. Every shelf, corner and closet was stuffed with the most amazing objects Willow had ever laid eyes on. Even though she had no clue as to what half the stuff was supposed to do, she was positive Giles would. If given the opportunity to explore, she was sure the Watcher would be like a child in a candy shop. Walking around, cautious not to touch anything, Willow eww and aww'd at each new find. 

  
  


When the giant of a man, who called himself Hadgrid, showed her to the office, she sat herself in the chair in front of the large desk to wait. Still sore over her parents betrayal, she steamed until her curiosity got the best of her. Telling herself not to pry, soon she was unable to sit still. It was like the objects around the room were just begging her to investigate. Silently giving her permission to explore to her heart's delight. 

  
  


"I'm sorry to keep you waiting." A warm voice greeted her from behind, making her squeal in surprise and spin around. Unfortunately, her elbow hit a large glass globe. Watching in horror, as the priceless object headed for the ground. In that split second she experienced something she couldn't believe. The globe stopped motionless in midair.

  
  


"What the?" Looking at the glass object, Willow gulped before looking at the man standing a few feet away. For the second time within seconds she'd been caught by surprise. He was the picture of what every child would imagine a wizard to be. Tall, regal, with a long white beard the same color of his hair. His pale blue eyes spoke volumes of the type of man he was. Kind. Gentle. Patient. But looking deeper, she could see power. Intelligence. A force to be reckoned with.

  
  


"Would you be so kind as to grab my honesty ball for me?" His clear blue orbs twinkled in amusement toward Willow's gaping expression. 

  
  


"I-I am so sorry. I can be so clumsy sometimes. Well most of the time. There is an occasional instance I'm not. But usually..." Feeling her cheeks warm with her runaway mouth, Willow snapped her jaw shut.

  
  


With unsure hands, she wrapped her hands around the delicate looking glass ball. Immediately the ball began to glow. A dark cloud appeared in the center of the orb, until it filled with swirling blue and purple. Watching in wonder as the colors bled to a deep royal blue before the globe cleared again.

  
  


"It was my fault. I shouldn't have startled you." The object secured in her hands. Willow looked uncertain as to what she should do next. "You can just set it on the stand there." Holding her breath, she carefully set it on the cherry wood circular table.

  
  


"I am Professor Dumbledore. And you Miss Potter are a sight for sore eyes." Indicating for her to sit, Willow marveled how at ease he put her. "We feared the worst after your parents disappearance a fifteen years ago."

  
  


"Yes I heard." Unable to keep her feelings from her tone. Making her feel a little ungrateful. Here she was, living in a dream come true. No story, or Hollywood production could capture the magical sensation of Hogwarts. The castle was immense from the outside. Even larger when she walked through the front hall. 

  
  


"A little put out with your parents?" Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Understandable. No one likes to be lied to. But sometimes being the keeper of the secret can take it's toll. Lying to a loved one, whether it's for their own good, or of the keepers. It can hurt just as much."

  
  


Not wanting to debate the issue, Willow stayed silent. His words rang true she supposed. But they were talking about her parents. 

  
  


"But enough of that. Welcome to Hogwarts. On that topic, you first must be sorted so you can find your room tonight." Standing slowly, Dumbledore walked over to a well worn leather hat. "This is the Sorting Hat. It will place you in your destined house."

  
  


"House?"

  
  


"There are four. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff and Slytherin. After the founders of the school." Strolling to her side, he carefully placed the item atop her head. 

  
  


Willow waited a few minutes, when there was movement from above. "Ah, another Potter." A dry voice rasped. "Just like your cousin Harry, you are brave. Loyal, like you other cousin Ron Weasly. There's only one place just right for you. GRYFFINDOR!"

  
  


Removing the hat, Dumbledore nodded his approval. "Splendid. I believe it's a perfect fit."

  
  


Not really sure being placed in Gryffindor was truly a good thing, Willow decided to rely on the older man's pleasure. "I know I'm behind... really behind."

  
  


"I won't lie to Miss Potter. This summer is going to be a busy one for you. There are quiet a few subjects to catch up on. But with determination and dedication I am positive you'll find yourself with the fifth years by the time the next term begins."

  
  


Willow's face fell slightly. "Fifth years?" 

  
  


"Only one year behind. But I think you will find being placed with your cousins in the same house, and the same year will be beneficial." Leafing through a stack of parchment on his desk, Willow waited patiently until Dumbledore found what he sought for. "Ah, here are the subjects Professor McGonagoll will be going over with you. I apologize none of the other teachers will be available to assist. But there's been a situation they are looking into. Was your mother able to acquire the items you'll be needing. Broom, Cauldron, Pet and books?"

  
  


"Yes." Remembering the large amount of 'luggage' she had to push through the London station, Willow nodded vigorously. 

  
  


"Because of unfortunate circumstances, the Wandmaker is by appointment only. But I did request for him to come here in two days. I have to say he's pretty excited about having another Potter to supply a wand to. When I last heard from him, he was already rummaging through his stock for the perfect wand."

  
  


Okay she was getting excited, Willow thought grimly. She had wanted to stay loyal to her friends back home. Not get excited by all the changes in her life. But how could she? Magic. Her newest obsession over the last few years, was right at her fingertips. Talk of cauldrons, flying brooms and wands was giving her goosebumps. 

  
  


"Well it's getting late. Hagrid is right outside the door to show you to your quarters. Miss McGonagoll will be by tomorrow to show you to the main hall for breakfast, then will give you a tour. Bring your first year books and broomstick. I apologize, but a new teacher has arrived tonight and is in need of my assistance. Once again it is a real pleasure having you here. I expect wonderful things from you." 

  
  


And like that her first meeting with the wizened wizard was over. With a parting smile, Willow stood and headed for the door. "Oh and Willow?"

  
  


Stopping and turning back to the headmaster, Willow waited for him to continue.

  
  


"The enchanted forest is strictly off limits. I understand you are used to dangerous monsters. But I am afraid the forest is too dangerous for any of our students. Also the lowest parts of the dungeon are, for the time being, also forbidden."

  
  


Lower dungeon? Willow had no clue as to why anyone would want to wonder somewhere that sounded as creepy as that. "No problem."

  
  


"Good. See you at breakfast."

  
  


~~*~~

  
  


"So how is our new teacher adjusting?" Walking slowly into the dimly lit room, Dumbledore was cautious not to make any sudden moves. But with each step he took, the growl rumbling from the chained man grew.

  
  


"Aside from trying to break from his bonds, and trying to attack me?" Snape drawled. "He's fine I suppose."

  
  


"Wonderful." Walking closer, Dumbledore spoke calmly to the fierce man. "Angel, I'm Professor Dumbledore. You're safe here at Hogwarts." The only response, was the loud thrashing against chains. "Angel I know somewhere inside you understand what I am saying. We have brought you back from the hell dimension. We both know you didn't belong there." 

  
  


It was strange. The more the older wizard spoke, in his calm hushed tone. The calmer the chained man became. His growls lessened. His wild, disoriented gaze focused. 

  
  


"You are needed here in our time of need. Young children and young adults are in desperate need of your assistance. I know everything right now is very confusing for you. But in time things will clear."

  
  


"You don't really think he'll snap out of it do you?" Snape questioned, his voice creating more growls from Angel. "Not even the strongest of mind have been known to survive the hell dimension."

  
  


"I think you will find Angel is full of surprises." Dumbledore answered patiently as if he were speaking to one of his young charges, much to Snape's chagrin. Turning his dark gaze back to the new arrival, he watched as Angel stopped his thrashing and began to sniff the air. 

  
  


The man's huge form strained at his constraints. His nose flared, eyes darted about, making him look like an animal pursuing a familiar scent. Soon his eyes locked on Dumbledore's form and his body stilled. Angel's brows drew together, then lowered. Lips pinched, as he looked to be struggling with a thought. "W-W..." 

  
  


"Yes Angel?" Dumbledore asked.

  
  


"W-Will." Licking his lips, his voice sounded rough with misuse, Angel took a deep breath. "Willow."

  
  


"Ahh. I did just get back from seeing your friend. Her scent is probably still with me." Clearly pleased with Angel's slow progress Dumbledore's eyes gleamed.

  
  


"Willow." Angel repeated. 

  
  


"She'll be attending Hogwarts this term." Dumbledore explained as if he were carrying on a conversation with the other man. "Will have to study through the holiday to catch up, but I'm sure she'll have no problems."

  
  


"Willow." Like a broken record, Angel kept using her name as the only form of communication. 

  
  


"Well, he is just full of surprises." Snape arched a brow in mockery. "He and Hagrid will get along famously." 

  
  


Angel's head swung back around to the Black Arts teacher. A low growl spilled from his lips. "Willow, mine."

  
  
  



	3. Three

Falling asleep had proven to be a challenge. Not because of the strange bed, located in a creepy, shadow infested tower guarded by some overweight talking picture, appropriately termed the Fat-Lady. Or even because there were a million thoughts zooming inside her head like some irritating gnat. It was all because of that damn prankster of a ghost, Peeves. 

  
  


It wasn't as if she hadn't been warned. Hagrid had told her about Peeves and his desire to drive the students and faculty insane with his foolishness. Of course she'd still been getting over her humiliating first encounter with Nearly Headless Nick. An event in itself she fervently hoped to forget about soon. 

  
  


To say she'd been a big fat ninny would've better described her disgraceful behavior when Nearly Headless Nick came floating down the hall. His kind eyes shining. A welcoming smile spread across his face. Instead of seeing his approach as friendly. Willow was ashamed to admit she'd been so shocked she ended up screaming, before jumping backwards into a shining set of armor. 

  
  


Nick who had seemed so distraught for frightening her, had floated back a few paces, as if to stay out of her personal space to put her at ease. The smile on his face faltered a bit, as the gleam dulled slightly from his eyes. Making her feel even more stupid than she already did. 

  
  


She'd thought by living on the Hellmouth, she'd be used to sights like this. Next time, Willow had thought solemnly as she rubbed the quickly growing knot on the top of her head, following Hagrid up the moving stairs, she'd apologize to the disappointed spirit. Hoping, that was, he didn't go out of his way to avoid her.

  
  


But she'd never, ever apologize to Peeves. The little deviant deserved to be exterminated. Exorcism was way too good for the likes of him. 

  
  


After tossing and turning in bed for what seemed for hours her eyelids finally heavy with sleep, Willow got her first taste of Peeves. A loud banging sound had her eyes widening in surprise, only to find the ugly mug of one very humored Peeves staring back. This only made her yell out again, more in shock than anything else. But as she tried to inch her way back on the bed, she found herself getting twisted in her sheets.

  
  


Her struggle only caused Peeves to squeal in delight, as he zipped around the room, singing and chanting an embarrassing tune about her bravery. Or lack there of. Soon he tired of that, and started tossing pebbles at her head. This went on until yet another ghost appeared. This one not as friendly looking as Nearly Headless Nick, but definitely not as disturbed as the one who'd started flicking boogers her way. Looking stern, and most put out as he hollered at Peeves and told him to get lost. Peeves had floated, looking as though to be in thought, before he blew a raspberry at the other ghost and disappeared through a wall. With only a nod of his head, the other spirit followed the way Peeves exited. 

  
  


Willow hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep until a slight creaking sound had her senses on full alert. Slowly she opened her left eye, taking a quick sweeping glance around the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Daylight now, the shadows from the previous night gone, the dormitory seemed less creepy. 

  
  


Feeling silly for being so jumpy, Willow opened her other eye and pushed herself up to rest against the wood bedframe. Standing at the foot of her bed, stood a small creature staring back patiently at her. It's big floppy ears wiggled slightly, as it rubbed it's hands nervously. 

  
  


"Good morning Willow Potter Ma'am." The small figure bowed until it's pointed nose touched the worn rug. "My name's Dobby, one of Hogwarts house elves. And it's such an honor to meet the cousin of Harry Potter." 

  
  


Not really sure what a house elf was, and not terribly sure this wasn't some bazaar dream, Willow stared back into Dobby's large eyes. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of a response, as she found herself terribly tongue-tied. "G-Good morning... Dobby."

  
  


"Oh and you're just as kind as Harry Potter." Dobby's large owlish eyes began to water, as he wiped his nose with what looked to be a dirty sock. "Of course you look exactly like the Weasley side of your family. Kind, generous people they are."

  
  


Seeing she wasn't in any mortal danger. Willow let out the breath she was holding. "Dobby, what exactly is a house elf?"

  
  


"House Elves are servants Ma'am." Dobby paused and grasped his hands in front of him. "We serve the house of our Masters. I am a freed elf."

  
  


Willow froze for a moment, her tiny nose wrinkled as she mulled this over. "You mean they are slaves?"

  
  


"Oh, well." Looking rather nervous, Dobby shook his head violently. "No-no, well yes. Sometimes. Dobby was given his freedom with Harry Potter's help. The elves who work here at Hogwarts are treated remarkably well. If they _wanted_ to be freed, Dumbledore sir would in a second. He is a kind Master."

  
  


"But they're still slaves." Not liking the sound of this, Willow's eyes darkened.

  
  


"But they _like_ their lives this way Ma'am." Dobby shrugged, as though he himself didn't understand. "They live to make their Master happy. Working at Hogwarts is an honor."

  
  


"So let me get this straight." Pushing the covers off her, Willow swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment. Her brain grasped onto the only thing that actually made sense to her. Even if it was about creatures she had no idea existed until today. "They enjoy being slaves?"

  
  


"Sadly yes. Some even go crazy if given their freedom. Feel as though life weren't worth living." With another sniff, Dobby straightened himself. "Oh but Mistress, I forgot the reason I am here."

  
  


Clearly not pleased with himself, he started hopping around the room. Opening the lid on her ancient looking chest, he started pulling out clothes and tossing them into a neat pile on the end of her bed. "You must hurry. Professor McGonagall asked me to show you to breakfast. Professor Dumbledore needed for her assistance this morning with the new teacher, and they will meet you in the Hall." Grabbing the black cape, Dobby shut the lid with a loud thud and tossed the last garment onto the bed. "I will wait for you downstairs in the common room. But you must hurry." And like that he was gone.

  
  


Shaking her head, Willow gave a little frown. Would this new world ever make any sense to her? She had thought living with the knowledge of vampires and other demons was different. Her new life was proving to be much more of a challenge and she hadn't even started with her studies.

  
  


Quickly getting dressed in her new school uniform, Willow rushed down the steps to find Dobby pacing the room, mumbling silently to himself. "Dobby can I ask you a question?" Tying the cape securely around her shoulders, she looked down at herself. "Has this always been the standard school uniform?" 

  
  


Dobby nodded furiously. "Oh yes Ma'am. For generations upon generations."

  
  


Looking down at the gray sweater, knee length skirt and socks, Willow's mind flashed back to her closet full of clothes back home her mother had purchased for her. "It explains a lot." 

  
  


Apparently not sure what to make of Willow's strange comment, Dobby grabbed her bag and broom off one off one of the long tables. Turning to her with large eyes, he hurried toward the exit. Anxiously peering over his shoulder to ensure she was following. "We must hurry. Can't have you late for breakfast." 

  
  


In most places, the school during the light of day looked a lot like it did at night. Dim. With long shadows. But she supposed with the lack of sky lights, and huge windows it was unavoidable. Other places, like the outer halls, were designed with large breezy archways. But if a person wanted to avoid the sun, there were several different passageways to get to their destination. 

  
  


"Angel would love it here." Willow whispered to herself.

  
  


"Excuse me Miss?" Dobby paused, his head whipping around to stare at her.

  
  


"Oh, nothing." Willow smiled listlessly. "Just thinking about a friend back home. He ah . . . isn't much into direct sunlight. Has um . . . allergic reactions." 

  
  


Dobby nodded, accepting her reply, but looked around nervously at the portraits who had started whispering amongst themselves. "Yes. Ah . . . This way." His low mumbles increased slightly, and no matter how hard Willow tired. She couldn't quiet make out what he was saying.

  
  


Once in the main hall, Dobby stopped and pointed to an enormous doorway. "Through there Ma'am."

  
  


Looking the way he pointed, then back to Dobby, Willow tilted her head slightly. "Aren't you joining us?"

  
  


"Oh no Miss Potter. Dobby needs to help the other House Elves in the kitchen. Today we're cleaning out the pantry." His eyes gleamed in excitement. "It's gonna be so much fun." With that, he gave another formal bow and left.

  
  


Staring after his retreating form, Willow shook her head. "Yeah. Sounds like a rip roaring good time." 

  
  


"Ah, Miss Potter." Dumbledore's voice came from behind. Giving one last look to where Dobby had disappeared, Willow turned and smiled at the kindly Headmaster. He was standing with a tall serious looking woman, who was looking back at her over her spectacles. "This is Professor McGonagall. She has been gracious enough to volunteer her time to help you with your studies. She is also the headmistress of Gryffindor."

  
  


"It's a pleasure." Willow was mildly surprised at the teacher's warm tone. From the looks of her she had been expecting to have her head bitten off. "I know all of your cousins very well. All Gryffindores. I'm pleased you will be starting the new term in the same house."

  
  


Hagrid soon appeared, and Dumbledore led the way into the Dinning hall. Willow nearly tripped over her feet on the way to the table. The room was magnificent. Large, long windows at the end of the hall let in the bright sunlight from outside. The walls were covered in what she presumed were house banners. But it was the ceiling that made her jaw drop open, as though she were fishing for flies. 

  
  


It was magnificent. Big white fluffy clouds drifted aimless above a robin blue sky. Occasionally a bird would fly past, only to disappear at the other end of the hall where the ceiling cut off. It was Hagrid's gruff chuckle that brought her back to her senses. As she blushed an apology Willow quickly took a seat with the others. 

  
  


"I heard Peeves was giving you a hard time of it last night." Professor Dumbledore grinned slightly. His clear blue eyes gleamed with amusement. "He has been warned to leave you at peace. If he does persist please let me know." Willow could only nod, not knowing what to say about the pesky ghost. Taking the napkin from in front of her, she placed it neatly on her lap. "Usually the entire staff joins us for meals." Dumbledore went on to explain. "But at this time they are away on errands, but hopefully they'll be joining us latter in the Holiday."

  
  


Again Willow could only nod, feeling slightly shy and out of place. Dumbledore gave a nod and instantly their plates filled with food. Causing Willow to gawk once again. She was starting to feel like some backwood cousin come a calling their big city relatives. Everything was so darn foreign. Willow had a feeling that things were going to get a whole lot stranger before the summer was through.

  
  


Picking up her fork with trepidation, Willow was almost ready for it to start moving on its own. Taking a small bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs, she closed her eyes in relief. They tasted like eggs. So food was normal, well at least so far it was. And for something so little Willow was relieved. Swallowing the food in her mouth, she remembered what Dobby had said to her earlier. "What about the new Professor?"

  
  


Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall paused, their eyes swinging toward one another for a brief moment before returning to their own plates. Hagrid on the other hand took a less subtle route, by choking on his pumpkin juice. 

  
  


"Yes, Professor Donnelly is resting at the moment. You will get a chance in a few weeks to meet with him. He needs time to. . . To adjust to his new surroundings." Willow sensed he was leaving something out. But decided it wasn't in her bounds to question him on it."I did get word from the Wandmaker though. He was able to adjust his busy schedule and will be here sometime this afternoon." Finishing his meal, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. 

  
  


"Wonderful." McGonagall nodded. "I don't know what he was thinking. Waiting two days was simply out of the question. Willow is already behind. We will need all the time we can muster if she is to be ready for her fifth year."

  
  


"Minerva you know why Jeb had to resort to appointments." Dumbledore lowered his voice slightly, but still didn't sound upset. His statement made Professor McGonagall sniff and nod.

  
  


"If I have a spare moment or two, I wouldn't mind loaning a hand to help Potter with her Mystical Creatures." Hagrid offered. 

  
  


Professor McGonagall seemed to pause, her eyes growing wide for only a moment before she caught herself. "Very thoughtful of you Hagrid. Really. But don't you already have your hands full?" 

  
  


"I guess you're right." Hagrid looked down at his plate in disappointment. 

  
  


"Yes well, after I give Willow a quick tour of the school, I plan on starting with her broom lessons." Willow's ears perked at this. It was hard to wrap her brain around the concept that a simple broom could be used for anything other than cleaning. Children's books were filled with broom flying, cauldrons stirring, pointy nosed witches. Never had she entertained the thought it could possibly be true.

  
  


"What do you say Willow? Ready to try your hand at some broom flying?" As if he were able to ready her thoughts, Dumbledore smiled broadly over the table at her. "I bet you will prove to possess the Potter's great flying ability."

  
  


With a shaky smile, Willow tried to swallow the large lump growing in her throat. "Ready as I'll ever be."

  
  


"Well Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall wiped her mouth and laid down her napkin. "The day is wasting." With a no nonsense air, the tall woman stood quickly from the table. "You can leave your books and broom here. We'll collect them at the end of your tour."

  
  


Saying a hasty goodbye to Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid , Willow followed.

  
  


~~~*~~~

  
  


Lying on the cold stone floor, Angel stared with unblinking eyes toward the door across the room. His insides ached, a slow burn running from the point of his toes, up his body, to his heart. The feeling wasn't one of cold. It wasn't even a heated sensation. It was one of guilt. Raw. Painful. Gut wrenching. Guilt. The type that made a person want to curl up and die. 

  
  


Not everything was clear to him yet. Bits and pieces were slowly becoming clear in his muddled head. He'd killed again. With malice, and glee. He could see the blood of his victims swimming in his mind. Their screams and pleads of mercy piercing his soul. But nothing equaled the pain of the look of hurt and betrayal echoed in Buffy and her friends eyes. 

  
  


He could only imagine the hell they'd lived through. As he tore through Sunnydale as if it were his own personal candy store. So young and once again forced to endure another horror. Watching hopelessly, as the face of on of their own turned evil. Knowing deep in their hearts what they had to do. But none were strong enough to follow through, not until he'd gone too far.

  
  


"Good morning Professor Donnelly." A calming voice came from the door to the room. From his position, Angel could see the bottom of robes draw near. "I see you're feeling a little better."

  
  


With a soft snort, Angel didn't even blink as he stared forward. Unwilling or perhaps unable to bring his eyes up to the man standing just feet away. If the stranger was merciful, he'd just end his pain now. 

  
  


"I have to admit, getting you here proved to be quiet a challenge." A scraping sound bounced off the walls, as the legs of a stool appeared in Angel's line of vision. "For awhile I was wondering if we were going to get you over the threshold in one piece."

  
  


Only listening with half interest, Angel laid still. 

  
  


"I am sorry about the accommodations. But once you feel more yourself we'll move you to the teacher's tower."

  
  


This caught Angel's attention. Moving his head as little as he could, so he could get a better look at his visitor. "Dumbledore." The word burned his throat. Wincing, Angel tried to move but found his arms couldn't hold his weight. Slumping back onto the ground, Angel watched the wizard with trepidation. 

  
  


"It's been a long time Angel." Dumbledore nodded his head, his eyes sad. "I bet you're wondering why you're here."

  
  


Trying to speak again was useless. Instead Angel gave a nod.

  
  


"I'm afraid to say that Voldtermort has returned." The blood in Angel's veins turned to ice as he waited for the wizard to continue. "He has already attacked Harry Potter. Fortunately Potter survived. But at the same time so did Voldtermort. His servants, the Deatheaters, have been reactivated. It is a sad time."

  
  


The words were echoes from so many years ago. The names sounded familiar. Voldtermort. Harry Potter. Deatheaters. A memory from long ago slipped into his soggy brain. He'd been in New York, when he'd heard word of the waging war in the magical community. The names were spoken in hushed whispers. Tales larger than life shared in darken alleys. 

  
  


"We are taking steps here at Hogwarts to prepare our student's for the horrors they will soon face." Heaving a sad, forlorn sigh, Dumbledore reached into his robes and produced a couple large flasks he held out for Angel to take. "Breakfast."

  
  


With shaky hands, Angel reached out in hunger and swiped the offered items. Tearing off the lid, Angel guzzled the blood so fast he could feel some of it escape down his chin. 

  
  


"The need to unify is strong. Families we have thought gone forever are returning. Such as your friend Willow."

  
  


Pausing in his feeding, Angel dropped the flask from his mouth. "S-She's not my friend. I . . . hurt."

  
  


"Yes I heard of the nasty ordeal in Sunnydale. Angelus always has proved to be a little . . . off." Tsking under his breath, Dumbledore kind eyes didn't waiver. "But I am sure none of them hold his actions against you."

  
  


"I killed Jenny Calander, tortured Giles's. Invaded their homes." Not used to saying so much at one time, Angel swallowed down the pain. 

  
  


"Angel, you didn't do those things . . ." Pausing Dumbledore shook his head. "Though I am sure you don't see it that way."

  
  


"Willow?" Something about the little redhead stuck out in his mind.

  
  


"Miss Potter? Oh she's doing well. Just saw her at breakfast. She's with Professor Mcgonagall at the moment taking a tour of the school. I'm afraid she's a little behind in her studies. But I have faith she'll catch up. Maybe when you feel a little more like yourself I can bring her to meet with you."

  
  


"No." The reply was barked out, as Angel hung his head in shame. 

  
  


Watching Angel silently, Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. His bushy white eyebrows lowered over his understanding blue eyes. "Then perhaps we should talk about the reason for your return?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Four

"Put your hand above the broom like so." Willow watched with a feeling of disbelief as Professor McGonagall's hand shot out above her broom. She didn't know how she was expected to take this seriously. Afraid she'd burst into a fit of giggles, Willow bit the tip of her tongue as she listened intently. 

  
  


"Then you tell your broom, UP!" If Willow hadn't been biting her tongue she would've swallowed it. Right before her eyes the broom flew up into the Professor's hand. "Now let's see if you have the Potter magic in you."

  
  


"My broom is going to listen to me?" Looking down nervously at the object lying on the grass at her feet, Willow had a horrible feeling that this was some huge joke. One she was the butt of.

  
  


"Have faith." McGonagall encouraged.

  
  


Looking down then back up again, Willow shrugged her shoulders slightly. Why not? It wasn't like she had anything to lose. Sucking in a deep breath she felt to her toes, Willow stuck her hand out. "Up." 

  
  


Nothing. Yup, she thought, she was a big fat loser.

  
  
  


"It's alright. You can't expect to succeed on your first attempt." A glimmer of disappointment flashed across the older woman's face. But she quickly recovered. "With authority now." Folding her hands nearly in front of her, McGonagall gave a curt nod.

  
  


Feeling rather stupid, Willow looked down and repressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Up."

  
  


Perhaps there was some huge mistake. Willow thought dismally as she stared down at the broom lying in the grass. Maybe she wasn't meant to be a witch. 

  
  


"Miss Potter you need to concentrate. Picture the broom leaving the ground." Her tone still patient, Professor McGonagall mouth twisted into what Willow could only presume to be a smile. 

  
  


Concentrate. She needed to concentrate. That shouldn't prove to be terribly hard. Just clear her mind and tell the broom on the ground to come to her hand. Of course. It all made sense to her now. Riight. 

  
  


Professor Mcgonagall gave a short sigh before slowly lowering her broom to the ground. "I know this seems hard to take on blind faith, having grown up with Muggles for the last fifteen years. But with your experiences, I'm sure riding a broom will prove to be nothing."

  
  
  


Letting out a long breath, Willow imagined all her insecurities leaving her body with that one breath of air. "UP!"

  
  


Before she knew it, she could feel the smooth wood of the handle in her palm. Staring down with unblinking eyes, Willow could feel a huge grin spread across her face. "I did it!"

  
  


"Yes." The older woman nodded in amusement. "But you still need to climb on and fly."

  
  


Not feeling deflated, Willow grinned down one last time at her broom before turning her attention back to the teacher. "What next?"

  
  


"Now throw your right leg over." Demonstrating as she went, Willow imitated her actions. She could feel the broom give a slight shudder until she found a comfortable position. "It may feel a little. . . odd at first."

  
  


"I used to do this as a child." Willow said. "Well not flying. It was more like trotting around my backyard cackling."

  
  


"Cackling?" Professor McGonagall's brow's drew together in confusion. "Why ever would you cackle?"

  
  


"I was pretending to be a witch. . ." Suddenly feeling foolish, Willow could feel the top of her ears burn in embarrassment. "Not that you cackle. I mean. Witch's in all the books and movies always cackled. So as a kid I always. . ."

  
  


"Ah, yes." McGonagall grimaced. "Muggle beliefs. Witch's with green faces and disgusting worts. Stirring their cauldrons on the full moon. Black Cats at their feet."

  
  


"I - I didn't mean to insult you. It's just . . . well." Looking down, Willow had a sudden desire for the ground beneath her to open up and swallow her whole. When would she ever learn to just keep her mouth shut?

  
  


"It's understandable. I also admit there's a few of us who are responsible for these beliefs. Playing jokes and pranks on the unknowing. It's rather tasteless." McGonagall sniffed.

  
  


"You mean witch's and wizards play tricks on the humans?" Not sure she liked the sound of this, Willow began to wonder what her parents had recruited her into.

  
  


"Not all of us dear." Reading Willow's mind, McGonagall looked over at her with compassion. "There are a select few though, who look down on Muggles. Believing because they can't cast magic they are beneath them."

  
  


"That's discrimination." Outraged, Willow eyes flashed. "It's not their fault."

  
  


"I didn't say they were right. Sadly, it's a fact of life. But this isn't the time or place for this kind of discussion. Right now we have to get you up and flying." The older woman's tone clearly stated the topic was closed for discussion. Ordering her broom up, the teachers icy demure clearly stated the conversation was closed for now. 

  
  


Obediently, Willow turned her attention to the rest of the lesson. Trying to ignore the questions buzzing inside her head.

  
  
  
  


~~~*~~~

  


"Professor Donnelly?" Pushing the heavy chamber door, Dobby peeked his head into the dim room. His pointed ears twitched, as they strained to hear movement from within the room. "P-Professor D-D-Donnelly?" Narrowing his eyes, he spotted a form sitting on the floor in the corner. "I have lunch for you sir." 

  
  


Holding a golden goblet in his shaking hands, Dobby trotted into the room a few steps. "Professor Dumbledore said you needed this for your strength."

  
  


"Go away." A raspy voice full of self loathing came from the shadows. 

  
  


"Master Dumbledore asked me to give you this sir. You need to eat." Taking another tentative step closer, Dobby squinted his eyes to get a better look at the man who was trying to unsuccessfully disappear into the shadows. "The students need you sir. Such evil has been reborn." 

  
  


"I can't help anybody." This time the voice was a little stronger. A little more angry. "I'm dangerous, I only end up hurting the people who care about me."

  
  


"That is not true sir!" Dobby cried out. "Professor Dumbledore, says you are a great man. That you are going to be able to help the students. They need you to teach them Muggle self-defense. Where else are we going to find a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher?"

  
  


"I. . . I can't." Angel covered his face with both his hands. He wished the little creature cowering in the room would just go away. Dumbledore should've just left him in the hell dimension. It was where he belonged. "I did horrible things."

  
  


Looking around, making sure there weren't any prying eyes, Dobby took another step and lowered his voice just above a whisper. "Master Dumbledore says a war is coming. One much larger than before. This war is will be fought by the children this time. Dobby is worried about Harry and his friends. They need all the assistance we can give them. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is not going to be easy to defeat. And poor Miss Potter. She's so behind. At least the others have faced danger before."

  
  


"I don't know anyone with the last name of Potter." Becoming frustrated that his peace and quiet was being disrupted, Angel dropped his hands to his side. 

  
  


"Well. . . Dobby thought Professor Donnelly was friends with Willow. You don't want anything bad to happen to her, do you?"

  
  
  


Willow. This caught Angel's attention. "Willow Rosenberg?" Hadn't Dumbledore said something about Willow on his early visit? Racking his soggy brain, Angel, for the first time since his return, wanted to remember. Since the painful moment he'd been pulled through the portal, a sensation equal to being showed through a strainer, he'd been struggling to stay on the verge of sanity. But it was easier to ignore the pain inflicted on him when he refused to connect with what was going on around him. 

  
  


And there had been so many visitors. Coming and going night and day. In and out of the dark room. Speaking in hushed, calm whispers. Their words were a swirl of gibberish, but as soon as they made their exit, he'd fight to go back to that place inside him so he could forget. Now, because of one name, ignorance was no longer an option. Not when the person in question had almost given her life to save his soul. Willow deserved more than his selfish unwillingness to join with reality again.

  
  


His tone dead cold, Angel shifted further into the shadows. "Willow has faced danger before. She doesn't need me reminding her of all the horrible things I did. I thought her last name was Rosenberg." Angel's curt words came from the gray shadows.

  
  
  


"No sir, she's a Potter, just like Harry. Her family went into hiding fifteen years ago. But they are back, just like so many of the others." 

  
  


Trying to make sense of what was being said, Angel hung his head and tried to make all the words fit until they started to seep in. "Did." Squeezing his eyes shut to fight against the last of the bleakness inside his mind, Angel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you just say she was going to fight someone?"

  
  


Dobby's large eyes grew wide as he gulped. "Y-Yes sir. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

  
  


A chill went up Angel's spine as more of the little creature's words started to bring back a few forgotten memories. "Voldtermort."

  
  


"Shhh!" Nearly dropping the goblet in his hands, Dobby's pointy ears lowered. Lower lip trembling, Dobby looked truly frightened. "Please sir, do not say his name out loud."

  
  


Frowning, Angel dirty face looked menacing. His nostrils flared as he remained silent. Years ago, he knew of the horror Voldtermort was inflicting upon humans and half breeds of his own race. The pure bloods weren't even safe, not if they opposed what Voldtermort and his followers were favoring. "Willow isn't strong enough to face something that evil."

  
  


"She restored your soul sir." Dobby defended the young woman he'd met that morning. "And she'd a Potter."

  
  


"I know what she did for me. It's not something I'm likely to forget. . . ever." Angel snapped. "It almost got her killed. She was foolish. Had she been using her brain instead of that damn soft heart of hers, she would've let Buffy take Angelus out."

  
  


"Well, if you don't mind me saying so, Dobby thinks you owe this to Miss Potter."

  
  


Angel looked ready to snap, his deep growls and dark words bounced off the walls. But after a long silence, he instead lowered his head. "Fine."

  
  


"Oh sir! This makes Dobby so happy." Hopping up and down Dobby forgot about the liquid in the goblet, which sloshed over the side. "Oh! So sorry sir! Here's your lunch." 

  
  


Taking the offered cup, Angel looked down at Dobby. "Does she know I'm here?"

  
  


"Miss Potter sir?" Dobby asked. "Oh no sir. Not yet. But she'll be so happy sir. I think she really needs a friend."

  
  


"I don't want her to know I'm here yet."

  
  


"But why sir? Dobby thought you and Miss Potter were friends." 

  
  


"We are. . . we were. Willow doesn't need another friend. She needs a teacher. I'm not great with friendships. But I can train her." Starting to move about his small chamber, Angel felt his unused muscles protest. The first thing he needed to do, was get back into shape. 

  
  


"But sir -."

  
  


"It has to be this way Dobby. It's the only way I can do this." Turning his back on the House-Elf, Angel lost himself in everything that needed to be done. 

  
  


Slipping out of the room, a look of defeat on his face, Dobby trotted to the end of the corridor, where Professor Dumbledore was waiting. "So has our dead friend decided to join the living again?" 

  
  


"Yes, Master Dumbledore." Dobby nodded sadly. 

  
  


"What bother's you Dobby?" Folding his hands in his long robe, Professor Dumbledore looked intently at the loyal House-Elf.

  
  
  


"He will help teach the students sir." Dobby's long ears bent in the middle as he heaved a long sigh. 

  
  


"Well that's wonderful news." Delighted, Dumbledore led them slowly to the dungeon steps.

  
  


"I suppose so sir." Trotting up the steps, Dobby still looked troubled.

  
  


"Tell me what's bothering you friend."

  
  


Dobby paused on the steps. "Professor Donnelly makes it sound like he no longer wishes to be friends with Miss Potter. He doesn't seem to think she needs his friendship."

  
  


"I was afraid this would happen." Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Angel has been through a lot, has many issues to get over. Perhaps right now it is for the best he concentrates on teaching. Soon he will realize friendship is also a very important part of living."

  
  


"You think so sir?" Doubtful, Dobby gazed up at his Master.

  
  


"I have a good feeling everything will work out as it should be."

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
